De Nova

Capitol; 2005

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The Redwalls really, really want to remind you of a certain Four. They've joined Louis XIV and The Bravery in 2005's fake-British-accent sweepstakes. Their lyrics are heavy on early-60s beat-fillers like "well", "oh", "hey", and "alright" [sic]. With so much twisting and shouting, the Redwalls sometimes come across like a bunch of teenagers from Chicago's North Shore taking a fateful day off. And with good reason: They started in 2001 as a British-rock cover band from a high school in Deerfield, Ill. On their second full-length (and major-label debut), they're more polished and they've stopped paying royalties, but not much else has changed.

Despite singer Logan Baren's intermittent Lennon impressions, Beatles comparisons give the Redwalls far too much credit. They more frequently appropriate from (and pale beside) their fellow appropriators. Opener "Robinson Crusoe" rides a riff borrowed from 1971 smash "Bang a Gong (Get It On)" by infinitely superior fakebook-readers T. Rex, complete with horns-- a new addition on this sophomore effort. "Back Together" treads through sub-Oasis-isms-- "There's nothing you can say that isn't what you said"-- over a monotone guitar lick not far removed from the Guess Who's "American Woman". Even piano-based "Build a Bridge" is little more than a forgettable cover of Joe Cocker's Beatles-covering "The Wonder Years" theme.

The real groans come when the Redwalls get serious. "What's this shit goin' down 'bout the FCC?" asks Baren in full "Gimme Some Truth"-Lennon mode on "Falling Down", before launching into a perfunctory chorus ("Darling, I've been falling down"). It's a good thing the Redwalls are defying the censors, or else society might go bereft of such controversial statements as "Love is all around/ And it's for everyone" from ballad "How the Story Goes", which sees Baren trying on Rod Stewart huskiness. Then there's "Front Page", which opens with newscast snippets about violence in Israel. This song desperately wishes it could be "A Day in the Life", but "the world keeps turning around and around, yeah, around", and turns out it's only "Angel of Harlem"-grade Bono bluster. For finale "Glory of War", Baren dons the nasality of Bob Dylan or Barry McGuire and pens a generality-laden Vietnam War protest a few years too late. Somewhere, Karl Rove is smirking.

Influences are fine, gang. What makes De Nova so forgettable is not its traditionalism, but rather its clichés of thought and emotion, which betray a lack of creativity that extends beyond recycled melodies (though, yep, that's "Green River" in the verse of the inevitable "It's Alright"). This is the type of band that would swipe the name of Brian Jacques' imaginative young-adult book series because a previous moniker, the Pages, was already claimed by pre-fame Mr. Mister. Sure, you can make some fine copies of copies these days, even decent copies of copies of copies, CTRL-C and CTRL-C and CTRL-C on down to hackneyed infinity. There's also shift-delete.